


Always

by ThornWild



Series: Moments [12]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Episode: s06e15 As You Were, F/M, Porn, season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 15:50:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThornWild/pseuds/ThornWild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is an urgency and desperation to her movements. Spike only lets himself worry for a second. Then he loses himself in her, ignoring his creeping doubts. If there’s something wrong, he can fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

‘Tell me you love me.’

‘I love you. You know I do.’

‘Tell me you want me.’

‘I always want you. In point of fact–’

‘Shut up…’

Buffy closes the distance between them and puts an arm around his neck. Turning them both around, she hoists herself up onto the sarcophagus and pulls him with her. Spike climbs up after her, facing her, and she begins to unbutton his shirt, hurriedly, with shaking fingers. He gazes down at her. She’s dressed simply in all black combat garb, her hair is pulled back, and she’s wearing less make-up than usual. This is a far cry from how she normally dresses and still… She is so beautiful. He brings his face down to hers and their lips meet.

Her kiss is hungry and demanding. He doesn’t mind one bit. He kisses her back, lets his hands roam over her body, slowly undressing her. Once rid of the light-weight armoured vest, she smells like sex, and she utters needy little whimpers between kisses, apparently frustrated with how slow he’s being. He takes his time all the same, wanting to savour it.

Lately it seems as though their rendezvous have been gentler, more intimate. She used to come to him reluctantly, when she was at the end of her tether, and if he took the lead, she would reject him out of hand, at first, until he would manage to convince her with either words or actions. But since her birthday, she’s been kinder, warmer, more willing. Perhaps seeing how badly she’d beaten him outside the police station made her feel guilty. Whatever the reason, he doesn’t care so long as it means they can have these moments together.

She’s all he thinks about, all he wants, all he craves, all the time. And he knows it’s pathetic. But he can’t let go of the hope that in some way, underneath it all, she does love him, or that she’ll learn to. Especially now that her kisses have become so soft and her touch so affectionate.

But something’s different today. There is an urgency and desperation to her movements. Spike only lets himself worry for a second. Then he loses himself in her, ignoring his creeping doubts. If there’s something wrong, he can fix it. He can give it to her so well that she forgets whatever it is that’s bothering her.

He pulls the black turtleneck off her and traces the contours of her neck with his lips, caresses her collar bone with the tip of his tongue, slowly, while he unhooks her bra. He cups one of her breasts in his hand, feeling the nipple harden under his touch. He squeezes it between thumb and forefinger, increasing pressure slowly until she throws back her head and gasps, her hips bucking upwards.

Spike takes her other nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and nibbling gently. At the same time, he moves his hand down her belly, tickling her lightly as he goes, until he reaches the lining of her pants. He unzips them slowly and reaches down to stroke her through her panties. He finds them soaked and grins, sucking a little harder on her nipple so her hips buck again. She moans. He pulls her pants down a little further and reaches inside her underwear to find her clit already engorged. He caresses it lightly, then rubs harder and she moans again.

Ignoring her frustrated whimpers and the motion of her hips as she clearly tries to get his fingers inside her, he focuses solely on the sensitive button pulsing beneath his fingertips. He releases her nipple from his mouth, instead cupping her breast with his other hand, and gazes at her face. Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut. Her breath is coming in ragged pants. One hand is grasping the blanket beneath her, the other flailing wildly before finding his upper arm and squeezing it, nails digging into his skin. She’s quivering.

After a minute or so of this she grunts in frustration and grabs his wrist, stopping him. ‘For fuck’s sake, Spike!’ she growls, pulling the hand away. Then she hurriedly removes his shirt and reverses their positions, shedding the rest of her clothing and pinning him beneath her, straddling his thighs. 

Her hands are shaking. She’s quivering with need as she removes his pants as quickly as she can, revealing his hard, weeping cock. Only taking a moment to lube him up with her own juices, she lowers herself onto his shaft with a groan. 

As she fucks him, he gazes up at her face. Her hair is coming loose from its ponytail, some of it obscuring her eyes. He takes the hand she used to lube him up a moment earlier and brings it to his lips, sucking the mix of her juices and his precum off her fingers. Her mouth is open and she moans continuously now, getting closer to release. He strokes her sides with his hands, and when he feels her tighten around him, hot and wet and wonderful, he puts his arms around her and pulls her down on top of him, catching her lips with his own, and pumping upwards into her, taking the lead. One of her hands is grasping his upper arm, tightening and slacking her grip in time with the rhythm of his thrusts. The other is in his hair, pulling at it. It hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt, one he gladly accepts in exchange for the feel of her tight cunt around his cock, her tongue in his mouth, and the sound of her cries as she comes so hard, eyes flying open.

He barely notices that he comes himself, all his focus on her green eyes and the feel of her body against his, but then he groans, all his muscles tightening, and he grabs her arse automatically, thrusting in as deep as he can and spilling himself inside her.

They stay like that for a few minutes. Spike strokes Buffy’s hair, now loose from its ponytail, gently. He can feel her heart beating against his chest, and for a moment it’s almost as though his heart were beating too. Then her heart rate slows down, her breathing becoming more steady, and she climbs off him. He scoots to the side so she can fit next to him, pulling the blanket over them both. She won’t look at him, which is nothing new, but the look on her face tells him not everything is as it should be.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asks, softly. There’s no answer. He props himself up on his elbow, and caresses her arm, studying her face. ‘Buffy… Did something happen?’

Buffy shakes her head. ‘No, I’m… I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just… I’m fine.’

He doesn’t push the matter further, and within minutes they are both asleep.


End file.
